


creating galaxies is hard work

by fluffy_Socks19



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale!Crowley - Freeform, Crowley!Aziraphale - Freeform, Eventual Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pffft what even is researching?, Raphael!Crowley, Snake!Crowley - Freeform, The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), crowley tempts, gore? I don’t know how to tag it, i only know writing a whole story and finding out after that everything is wronh, i really should be doing homework, oh well, tbh I’m really annoyed at myself for that, wrote this instead of doing homework
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-07-31 18:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffy_Socks19/pseuds/fluffy_Socks19
Summary: Chapter 1: Raphael in heaven, creating starsChapter 2: Crowley meets Aziraphale again in EdenChapter 3: Crowley- as Aziraphale -sees Gabriel and the other archangels again





	1. falling hurt like hell. well, that’s where he was going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angels didn’t _need_ to preen their wings, the feathers neither grew nor fell out. Of course, angels groomed them anyway. 
> 
> ...
> 
> It was about as rebellious as angels could get.

Creating stars and galaxies was hard work. 

That was what Raphael told God. It was lonely work too, although he would never admit that to Her. He may be an archangel, but that didn’t mean he had to share every feeling with Her. 

God had sounded surprised, but agreed to create an angel to assist him, telling Raphael that he would be given them soon. 

‘Soon’ was a strange word when time had barely existed. It had only been invented not too long ago. If days had existed then, the amount of time that could be measured since time had started would have been about seven days. An eternity to Raphael, who had only existed for six of those seven. 

Gabriel had been created on the first day. He had helped God create physical worlds to place in the darkness that was the universe. Had placed the ideas of planets and asteroids into God’s metaphorical head. But Raphael had created light- well, God created light, but the archangel had shaped it, compacted it into stars, then created constellations, and then galaxies. 

In those seven days, Raphael could have created millions of galaxies easily- with just a simple flick of his hand he could have crammed the infinite space of the world with light, but he didn’t. He took his time, carefully caring for each like a mother hen cares for her chicks, but neither chickens nor reproduction had been invented. 

“Raphael.”

A light, brighter than the star he was currently shaping, illuminated the archangel. He turned, bowing his head to the unknown source of the light. His wings glowed white under the light, the shiny feathers reflecting the light.

“Yes, my lord?”

“I need you to create a star.” The soft murmurs of the Seraphims’ chanting surrounded the two.

“But… hasn’t that been what I have been doing?” Raphael asked, before clamping his mouth shut, “forgive me my lord, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Of course,” whether She was talking about the stars or forgiveness, Raphael didn’t know. “This one is important, however. I have plans, a _Great Plan_, but I need a sun, first.”

“And what is a ‘sun’, my lord?” He added on the end quickly, before She could reply. The silence between words wasn’t silent anymore, it hadn’t been since the creation of time. The Seraphims still quietly chanted ‘holy, holy,’ while their six wings flapped and the feathers of his wings ruffled. The far off sounds of angels organising creations and talking in general echoed towards the lonely angel. 

“It is simply a star that planets orbit around. You’ve seen solar systems before?”

“Oh, yeah- uh, yes.” Raphael had. Gabriel had dragged him away from his work to show him the new creation, which had orbited so slowly that Raphael had gotten bored and left when the other archangel hadn’t been looking. He didn’t see why it was important, although he didn’t voice his concerns. 

“Good. Ah, also, after you create the sun, I will give you an angel to help you.”

Raphael brightened at that. “I’ll get started right away.”

“I didn’t expect anything less. ” She said, and he could swear she sounded like she was smirking. “Gabriel will meet you at the place I’ve chosen.” The light faded and so did the chants from the Seraphims. Raphael bowed his head again as Her presence faded.

With a few flicks of his wrist, he finished the star he was working on. He outstretched his wings and soared away from the flames, the ends of each flame tinted blue.

———————————

“Raphael.”

He turned away from the flames to meet the gaze of the archangel.

“Gabriel.” He greeted.

Gabriel glanced up at the star, “is it done?” Raphael nodded. “Good. Took you long enough.” 

Raphael sighed, “She said it was important, part of a ‘great plan’. I was just being careful.” He turned back to admire the star.

“‘Careful’ doesn’t take a week,” Gabriel said.

“A what-now?” Raphael spun his head around, long red curls following. 

“Seven days.”

“Huh?”

Gabriel smiled, but his eyes said he was close to ripping Raphael’s wings off. “The amount of time it takes for the Earth to make a full rotation.”

“Oh,” he looked at the planet on his left, a sandy brown colour. Whatever sand was, Raphael didn’t actually know. “It doesn’t look very ‘important’.” He dared to say.

“God works in mysterious ways,” Gabriel snapped, “don’t question her decisions.” He narrowed his purple eyes, large white wings opening to make him seem bigger as he stared at Raphael. He narrowed his eyes before flying off.

Raphael sighed, “right.”

———————————

“Raphael. This is Aziraphale. He’s the angel that’s going to help you.”

The archangel looked at the angel, who kept glancing nervously between Her light and him. He didn’t look much different than the average angel, although he did have pale skin, grey-blue eyes and blonde -almost white- fluffy hair. It looked soft. 

Raphael nodded to the source of the light, grinning, “yep, thank you.”

Without another word, the light faded.

“S-so, um. Raphael, right?” Aziraphale asked.

He nodded, “the one and only.”

It had been three weeks since the beginning of time. A week since the Sun and the Earth had been created. Raphael’s creation of stars had slowed and he had been spending more time with other angels, especially one named Phosphoros who had been putting strange things into the archangel’s head.

———————————

Falling had hurt like hell. Well, it should of. That’s where he was falling to. 

Angels didn’t _need_ to preen their wings, the feathers neither grew nor fell out. Of course, angels groomed them anyway. It was about as rebellious as angels could get. But as Raphael fell, his feathers were plucked out of his wings, one by one, so he couldn’t fly or slow his decent. They then grew back, white as usual, before starting to burn. Literally catching on fire and turning ash black moments before he hit the ground. 

His wings caught his fall, the burnt and extremely sensitive feathers screaming in pain. He laid there for a few moments, unable to move, before he rolled over and gasped for air he didn’t need. His arms shook underneath him and he shut his eyes tight. When he opened them again, black scales were creeping up his arms. He gasped sitting back onto his heels and holding his sore arms out in front of his body. His entire body ached but his wings were in agony, burning even though the fire had long burned out. He cried out in agony, arms collapsing underneath him. 

He screamed as his bones snapped and body contorted into a skinny tube, arms and wings folding into himself. Even though his wings didn’t exist as a serpent, he was still tormented by the pain. 

He laid there for hours, bones groaning and breaking as he changed from serpent to angel to snake to demon, his cries of pain slowly quieting to shaky whimpers as the scorching pain became a dull burn. 

When someone stood, he lifted his head. He was in the middle of a change, scales on his lower arms and legs, scales near the back of his head and shoulders, his yellow eyes had changed so that his usually round pupils were slitted and narrow. It was Phosphoros, the angel that had led them during the fight between the two sides of heaven. The one that had led them to this agony. 

Phosphoros’ skin was red and blistered and his wings, which were tattered with holes and no feathers left, were stretched out behind him. Raphael winced at the pain Phosphoros must be feeling. 

Phosphoros spat at the sky. 

He renamed himself Lucifer, saying that they weren’t angels anymore. He renamed all of them as demons, saying that they were to resist the life of an angel.

“You,” he pointed to an ange- uh- demon, “what’s your name?”

The dark haired demon thought for a moment. “Beelzzzebub,” she sounded like the flies that had nested in her hair. 

Lucifer grinned.

He pointed to another demon, “you?”

“Hastur,” he growled. 

Lucifer pointed to another and another and another, until the demons were calling out their names.

When he turned to Raphael, whose entire arms were now scaly and fingers had webbed together, the redhead narrowed his eyes. 

Four weeks. Raphael has existed for only four blasted weeks and this was how God repaid him? He had created the sun and galaxies upon galaxies of stars for Her without complaint and She had just tossed him aside as soon he questioned Her plan.

“Crawley,” he said, yellow marbling the whites of his eyes. 

He glared up at the sun, which he suspected to go out at any moment. But it didn’t. He guessed God’s ‘Great Plan’ was so important that She’d rather keep a sun made by a demon than wait any longer. That made him wonder, did She even care for Her angels? Or were just playthings to Her, things to use to make Her fantasies real. 

He narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth. 

Damn Her.


	2. theres only one thing more degrading than becoming a fallen angel: begging Her for forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah. Well it’s nice to meet, uh- well actually it isn’t. I lied.” Aziraphale looked guilty.
> 
> Crawley raised his eyebrows, “I didn’t think angels could lie.”
> 
> Aziraphale laughed nervously.
> 
> “So what are you supposed to be doing? Stand here and look pretty?” Crawley grinned when Aziraphale blushed.

There’s only one thing more degrading than becoming a fallen angel: begging Her for forgiveness.

But there Crawley was, pleading for Her to forgive him, to let him back up with the stars, to hold him and heal his pain, to love him again. You see, angels are made of love, God’s love. Her love for everything in physical form, it was their very being. But when he fell, Crawley was stripped of her love. The warm energy that birthed him, that kept him alive, was now gone. But he was still there. Yes, falling was painful, more agony than any mortal would feel, ever. But Her love being ripped from him was worse. It felt like his metaphorical insides had been taken out, torn to shreds and lit on fire to burn, like his wings- which were still ash-covered and smouldering. 

He hadn’t known life was possible without love.

“Crawley.”

He whisked the tears away with a wave of his hand and stood from his knees. He turned to the demon, internally cringing at the sight of his pasty skin and the slimy creature that had formed on his head. “Yes Hastur?”

“Special mission. Straight from the bottom.” His eyes were so dark, you could get lost in them. But not in the way it’s fantasized these days. They were like black holes of pain. They looked like they could swallow you hole, rip your skin from your body and spit out the bones. 

“And how does that concern me?” Crawley asked, itching to get back to his pleading.

Hastur smiled, skin stretching so taut it looked as if it would rip, and raised his eyebrows. Shivers ran down Crawley’s spine. “It’s like Beelzebub said, ‘you’re _perfect_ for it.’ You _lucky thing_.” Hastur bared his teeth in a grin. “Any demon would give an arm for an opportunity like this.”

Crawley swallowed, “and what is this _’special mission’_?” He could feel scales crawling up his spine, but he forced it down. He’d have to learn to control that somehow.

“Oh, just a simple tempt.” The frog on Hastur’s head blinked, one eye before the other. 

Crawley furrowed his brows, “tempt?”

Hastur turned and started walking away, “Beelzebub will explain. I have better things to do than teach you what a demon does.”

Crawley followed him, bare feet slapping on the hard ground. “It’s not like I’ve been one before,” he muttered under his breath. 

« « « « « « » » » » » » »

The ground opened and he slithered through the hole, the dirt slipping off his scales. _’So this was Her “Great Plan”?’_ he thought. _’A big garden with two wingless angels.’_

He slid through the ferns, eyeing the so-called ‘humans’. When his scales brushed against the stone walls, he hissed and moved away, sliding to the female, who was sitting with a small bed of red flowers. 

He started small, just to test out how tempting worked. He slid to Eve and settled into a large coil. He lifted his head and whispered into her ear, telling her to pluck a flower she’d been admiring. Her slender hands moved before his yellow slitted eyes and she took the flower and placed it in her hair. He grinned and hissed to her, “go look at yourself. In that pool of water just there. Go on, _you deserve it_.”

And she did. Eve turned her head this way and that, admiring her reflection. When she turned to look back at the snake, he was gone. She blinked and stood, going to find Adam to show off the flower. 

Feeling accomplished, at least slightly, Crawley made his way up the wall, trying to find a good advantage point where he could watch the humans. The rough stone seemed to snag his soft underbelly in all the wrong places and he was glad when he got to the much smoother top. 

He almost fell back down when he spotted an angel a couple metres away, dressed in white and radiating pure _goodness_ as always. He slithered closer, wanting to get a better look. He hoped it wasn’t one of the archangels, it would hurt to see them so soon after his fall. But when he spotted the blonde curls and light blue-grey eyes, he realised it was worse.

“Aziraphale?”

The angel looked up from the garden, gripping the flaming sword tighter. “Um, hello.” 

Crawley couldn’t see a single speck of recognition in his old assistant’s eyes. “Oh, I’m still a snake.” He chuckled quietly to himself and changed, forked tongue darting out in the start of a hiss at the still quite foreign feeling. “That’s better, yes?” He kept his wings folded, just shaking some of the ash off still hurt. 

But still, Crawley could see that Aziraphale didn’t recognise him.

“Uhh, hello.” He said again, eyes wide after watching the transformation.

“Really angel? Nothing?”

Aziraphale swallowed, “who are you? It would be better with a name, right? You know mine. Somehow,” he added.

“Yes, that’s because you we- oh.” If Crawley had any hope that God still cared about him, it was just shattered. “She wiped your memory.”

“Wh-Who?”

Crawley glared at the horizon, fisted clenched. It was bad being cast out and ripped of Her love- worse than death- but this was just salt in the wound- if that phrase had been invented yet. Making him face an angel, _the_ angel that had been made for him and making them forget who he was. 

“Hello? You in there? Or is your head in the clouds? Or, well, in the ground.” Aziraphale waved a hand in front of Crawley’s face. He coughed, “you know, because you’re a demon from hell and hell is in the ground…”

Right. He still hadn’t answered.

“I’m Crawley.”

“Ah. Well it’s nice to meet, uh- well actually it isn’t. I lied.” Aziraphale looked guilty.

Crawley raised his eyebrows, “I didn’t think angels could lie.”

Aziraphale laughed nervously.

“So what are you supposed to be doing? Stand here and look pretty?” Crawley grinned when Aziraphale blushed.

He cleared his throat, “_no_. I’m on Apple-Tree-Duty.” He pointed to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, “you?”

Crawley lifted his chin, “I’m here to tempt.”

“Ah, that’s nice- wait, tempt?” Aziraphale turned from Eden to the demon.

Crawley sighed, “I have to get them to eat the apples.” He also pointed to the tree.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened, “but-but that’s the opposite of _my_ job!”

Crawley raised his eyebrows, not taking his eyes off the tree. “Then you’d better get good at it.”

“Is that a threat?”

Crawley looked at his old apprentice, his snake eyes making the angel falter. It wasn’t that his gaze was angry or scary, it was intense. Like he knew something Aziraphale didn’t. It was like he was looking right into Aziraphale’s very being and saw what even the angel didn’t know. Aziraphale could see that Crawley was smart, even for an angel- which of course he was once- that there was hidden knowledge behind those yellow eyes. Aziraphale felt that he could stare into them for eternity and still not know what Crawley knew. He couldn’t look away, luckily Crawley did. A small smile and then the demon turned his head back to the garden.

“Angel, everything I do is a threat to you. It’s in our nature. Our biological beings.”

Aziraphale swallowed and turned back to Eden. He glanced at the demon in the corner of his eye. “Of course.”

They stayed silent until the sun was disappearing over the horizon, when Crawley spoke up.

“Well, nice chat. Best be off. Tempting to do, you know how it is.”

“Well, actually I don’t. I’m an angel. B-but how are you supposed to tempt? It’s dark now. The humans are ready to rest,” Aziraphale furrowed his brows in confusion. 

Crawley smirked and waved, “ta-ta.” Within a few heartbeats, he had changed into a snake and was already halfway down the wall, Aziraphale staring after him.

« « « « « « » » » » » » »

When he came back up, Aziraphale was turned away from the garden.

“You really didn’t need to do that, you know? It would have happened eventually.” He cringed at the sound of the humans.

Crawley shrugged, “best get it over and done with, right? I mean, they’ll be gone in a week.”

“A week? You’re only going to wait a _week_?” Aziraphale looked at him in disbelief.

“Best get it over and done with,” he repeated. “Demons don’t have much patientice. Any longer and He would have me dead.”

“Who?”

Crawley rolled his eyes, “Satan! Well, probably Beelzebub, actually. She’s more the one to do that sort of thing.”

Aziraphale didn’t mention that he had _no clue_ who Beelzebub was, he just gripped his sword a little tighter.

Crawley looked up at the sky and sighed happily, “aren’t the stars gorgeous?”

Aziraphale smiled, “they’re even better up close. You should have seen it.”

“I did.”

Aziraphale didn’t look like he heard him, “you know, I was made for an angel who created those stars. They created the sun too.” Crawley brightened. So Aziraphale did remember him! Maybe he just looked different. Although, the only real difference was his eyes and the colour of his wings. Same nose and face and same red curls. Same freckles, although now the once glowing constellations were now dull spots.

“Really? Why are you here then?”

“I...I don’t know,” Aziraphale muttered, brows furrowed as he racked his memory.

Crawley darkened again. “I see.”

« « « « « « » » » » » » »

Crawley slithered up the woman, the first of her kind. 

“I hear you were told by God to not eat the fruit of any tree,” he hissed.

She looked at him, no fear in her eyes. “We can eat from any tree in the garden. Except the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. If we touch the fruit we are sure to die.”

“And you were told this by God?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t die, you know. God knows that once you eat from the fruit your eyes will open and you will become like Gods. You will know good _and_ evil.” The serpent smiled, black scales shimmering in the light. “Part of you may die, the part of you that follows Her orders. But it tastes better than ambrosia and you will become Gods. Gods with the free will to do as they please. You could travel past the borders of the garden.” He really didn’t need to continue, Eve was already making her way to the tree.

Eve looked to the tree, hand upon her already protruding stomach. She was feeling a little hungry- someone from a future century would have said ‘peckish’, but this 4004BC, and no such word existed. 

Crawley watched as she took a bite, then watched as Adam took a bite. He watched as they left and watched as they fought a lion- a great terrifying beast (at least to humans) that Adam had named only a few days ago, before Eve had been created from his rib. 

He didn’t stay to watch Aziraphale fix the wall or watch God corner him or watch him guard the garden for a few lonely days. No, he was down in hell, grinning at Hastur and getting pats on the back for the effort. Although the would have rather been back up on the wall of Eden, just a little closer to the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And thank you to those who kudos!! 
> 
> If you feel like it, maybe go check out my tumblr? I’ve got some fan art of our favourite ineffable husbands on there <3 
> 
> https://fluff-fluff.tumblr.com/post/186763635475/some-good-omens-sketches-mostly-becuase-i-needed


	3. pretending to be aziraphale wasnt hard, it was actually quite comfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That scared Crowley. Well, it would have, if he wasn’t currently restraining himself from ripping his hands from the chair and clawing at Uriel and Sandalphon’s faces.

Pretending to be Aziraphale wasn’t hard, it was actually quite comfortable. That scared Crowley. Well, it would have, if he wasn’t currently restraining himself from clawing at Uriel and Sandalphon’s faces. He was strapped down into a chair with a piece of cloth over his mouth, keeping him from talking.

He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, raising his eyebrows at the archangels. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen them since he’d fallen, but this was the closest he’d been to his siblings since he’d become a demon. The closest he’d been to them and they were about to kill him. Well, not _him_ per say, but Aziraphale, _his_ angel, _his_ lover. 

“Welcome back to heaven, Aziraphale,” Uriel said, the gold scattered across her cheekbones glittering in the sun.

Crowley felt a smirk tug at the side of his lips, but he resisted it. He simply blinked. He wasn’t used to blinking so much, the snake side of him stopped that urge. But it would be suspicious if Aziraphale just stopped blinking. Luckily, the angel’s body blinked subconsciously, so Crowley didn’t need to think about it, but it was still somewhat distracting.

“I’m guessing you are wondering why we’ve brought you here,” Sandalphon said, he lips stretching over his 

Uriel placed a hand in front of her brother, stopping him from continuing, “Gabriel will explain.” Sandalphon huffed quietly, but snapped his fingers. The cloth fell from Crowley’s mouth and fell into his lap.

“Ah Aziraphale! So glad you could join us,” came a voice from behind Crowley. He looked up as Gabriel walked past, patting his shoulder as he passed him. 

“You could have just sent a message,” Crow-‘Aziraphale’ said, “I mean, a kidnapping in broad daylight?” 

Gabriel just waved him off, “call it what it was: an extraordinary rendition. Now-“ Gabriel turned slightly to Uriel and Sandalphon- “have we heard from our new associate?”

_‘Associate?’_ Crowley wondered, but he kept his face neutral.

“He’s on his way,” Uriel replied before Sandalphon could. Crowley has to suppress a smirk at the archangel’s annoyed expression- of course they were still bickering thousands of years later.

“He’s on his way,” Gabriel repeated, smiling widely at Aziraphale. He clasped his hands together excitedly. “Oh, I think you’re going to like this.” The archangel nodded, “I really do! And I bet you didn’t see this one coming.”

Crowley would have shrugged and make a quick remark, but he had to be Aziraphale, so he just stared back into the archangel’s lilac eyes. There was an underlying layer of evil in the purple, almost hidden underneath all that _good_, Crowley almost laughed.

“Don’t get this view down in the basement!” Called a voice. It definitely wasn’t an angel, Crowley could smell the demon on him, not to mention the waves of burning heat that radiated off him. It wasn’t the sort of heat from a warm campfire, the heat that you welcomed, that you embraced. It was a sharp heat, one that you knew would burn your skin if you got too close. A heat like a wildfire, crazy and uncontrollable, a heat that destroyed everything in its path.

Crowley didn’t recognise the demon when he finally came into view. He had horns made of hair and ash under his eyes. He held a big glowing… _thing_ in his hands. He threw it onto the ground, where is grew into a spiraling tornado of flames. 

Hellfire.

Despite the situation, Crowley felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched the archangels scatter from the fire.

“So,” Gabriel took a wary step forward,” with one act of treason, you averted the war.”

“Well,” Crowley shifted to sit up more, “I think the greater good-“

“Don’t talk to me about the greater good, _sunshine_. I’m the archangel fucking Gabriel, “he snapped. Crowley felt anger course through him. How _dare_ Gabriel cut off Aziraphale. He wanted nothing more than to wipe that look off of his brother’s face, to get out of the chair and push him into the hellfire. It might have been an overreaction, even Crowley felt that, but he also couldn’t help but feel like Gabriel deserved it. He’d been nothing but a prick since the beginning, even when Crowley was still Raphael. Crowley could deal with it, he’d been through hell- literally. But he couldn’t stand anyone- _anyone_ hurting his angel.

“The greater good was we were finally going to settle with the opposition once and for all,” Gabriel continued. He glanced at Uriel. She caught his eyes for barely a heartbeat. She walked to Aziraphale, steering clear of the hellfire. She untied the restraints around his wrists before heading back to stand by the other archangels.

“Up,” she ordered Aziraphale.

Crowley stood and rubbed at his wrists, the rope had been tight. The corner of his lips twitched downwards. 

He smiled pleadingly at the archangels, “I don’t suppose I can persuade you to reconsider?” He frowned, “we’re supposed to be the good guys, for heaven's sake!”

“Well, for _heaven's sake_ we are meant to make examples of traitors. So,” Gabriel gestured to the hellfire, “step into the flame.”

Crowley frown deepened. Then he swallowed and smiled sweetly, he had to remember to be like Aziraphale. _’What would angel say?’_ He racked his brain for the right words.

“Right. Well, it was lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion.” 

“Such a stupid mouth and die already,” Gabriel grinned.

Crowley frowned again. Go-Satan-_somebody_, did he want to punch that smug look off Gabriel’s face. Maybe push his face into the hellfire too. 

He rolled his shoulders and fixed up Aziraphale’s clothes, smoothing down his shirt and straightening his bow tie. It’d been a while since he’d been in hellfire. He took a breath, a sudden fear washing over him that this wouldn’t work, that he’d be burned to nothing, that he’d become too angelic or that swapping bodies worked_ too_ well and he wasn’t immune to hellfire anymore. 

He exhaled and stepped into the flames.

The heat was comforting, a warmth that spread to every spot in his being, to every atom and every space in between. It was the closest a demon could get to feeling… well, not safe, but… protected. But there was an edge to hellfire that Crowley hated. It was what had burned away his white feathers and his halo. It was what had burned away the _good_ in him. He didn’t like being in hellfire for too long, he was scared the last of the good in him, the goodness that he’d spent the last 6000 years building up. 

He sighed happily, cracking his neck. He opened his eyes and smiled at the Archangels, who were watching him in shock. Crowley grinned and roared at them, the flames shooting out. He smiled proudly as they scattered from the flames. He quirked an eyebrow, noticing how Gabriel placed his arms in front of the other Archangels. _’Protecting them now? Never did that with me,’_ he thought to himself.

“It may be worse than we thought,” Gabriel said, normally perfect face now pale with fear.

“What _is_ he?” Uriel asked.

“I’ll tell you what I am,” Crowley said, stepping out of the flames and dusting off his coat, “late. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a _very_ important meeting with a _special someone_ and I’d rather not keep him waiting.” Crowley smiled as he buttoned up Aziraphale’s coat

Gabriel nodded, mouth agape. 

Crowley smiled wider and turned, walking away. He paused and turned slightly, just enough to look at his old siblings over his shoulder, “oh, and Gabriel?”

“Yes?” He asked, eyes still wide with shock.

“Shut your mouth, you look like a fish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and the kudos! <3 
> 
> The next chapter is a date! I really love writing fluffy things, so I’m excited!!


End file.
